Hello everyone! It is I, the wonderful TearsofPain! I haven't been on here lately because I was participating in the esteemed contest, Nanowrimo, otherwise known as National Novel Writing Month! Unsurprisingly I wrote it about a child abuse victim and his journey to overcome the trauma of his childhood (even though he's still only 15 going on 16). But of course, you don't want to hear me ramble about my book that I didn't quite finish. You want to read the story! So... off you go!
Benny's POV
"Smalls, throw it to second!" I called out. Smalls nodded earnestly and got into position. When I was sure his posture was correct and he was ready to move if he had to, I threw the ball high up into the air and then I slammed the bat into it. It flew in a perfect arc over Yeah-Yeah's head and fell right into Smalls' outstretched glove. He laughed in triumph and quickly threw the ball to second where Bertram was waiting. Then Bertram threw it over to Squints at third who threw it to Ham who was waiting at home plate.
"Great job Smalls!" I shouted. "You're getting much better! And you guys are getting faster!" I praised looking at all of my boys. They all beamed and basked in the praise before snapping back into position when I shouted, "Okay! Let's get this game started!"
Kenny quickly jogged over to the pitcher's mound, threw the ball into the air a couple of times to get ready, and then wound up. He pulled his leg up to his stomach, brought his arm back, and then let it fly. It was one of his heaters and I knew this would be a hard one to hit. As it flew in a steady path towards me I let everything around me except the ball fade out of focus and time seemed to slow down. I swung the bat forward as I saw it get into the right area and I smiled as it hit the ball and sent it flying.
C
R
A
C
K!
The ball flew towards outfield where Timmy and Smalls were waiting. In mere seconds I was already practically flying towards first base. I grinned as my foot made a satisfying smacking sound when it slammed onto the makeshift base.
I was already almost to third by the time Bertram got the ball. I passed Squints who was jumping up and down screaming, "Come on, and hurry up!"
I was about halfway to home plate when Squints threw the ball to Ham, trapping me. My eyes darted from side to side as I frantically looked for an opening. The guys hadn't gotten me out to this day and I didn't plan on soiling that record. I started to run back towards third but Ham was a step ahead of me and he had already thrown the ball back to Squints. I screeched to a halt and made to run to home. But Ham already had the ball again. They did this a couple more times before I finally spotted an opening.
I pumped my arms as I ran as fast as I could towards home plate. I feinted turning around and Ham fell for it and threw the ball towards Squints, and I ran back towards home.
By now all the guys were screaming, some for me to run and some for Squints to throw it back, and I laughed delightedly. I knew I would make it now. But before I got to home Ham was suddenly in front of me waving the ball tauntingly. I ignored him and just gracefully slid through his legs and touched my foot to the base.
Of course Ham cursed and muttered under his breath that he let me get by, but I knew he wasn't really angry. He was just disappointed that I had managed to slip by him yet again. Ham was disappointed many times throughout the course of the day. Time and time again I hit the ball, got to third, and managed to slip past Ham at the last second.
We finally stopped playing when it got too dark to see the ball, but none of us were happy about it, especially me. If I could, I would play baseball 24/7, but unfortunately I can't. So I walked over to the dugout with the rest of the guys, grabbed my bat and the baseball, and slowly walked across the Sandlot and out the gate.
On the way home we were all talking and laughing and jokingly shoving each other, and we all yelled "Bye!" at the tops of our voices whenever someone reached their house. Soon enough Smalls and I were the only ones left.
In order to get to our houses we had to walk through the "rich kid neighborhood" as Squints had dubbed it. We started power-walking when we got inside because to tell the truth, we don't like anybody who lives in this neighborhood, and nobody who lives here particularly likes us, especially Phillips.
Phillips is the snobby captain of the Tigers, the little league team who hates all of our guts and thinks that they're so much better than us just because all of their parents are rich. They're not even very good at baseball. To tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, they suck.
Whenever they see us, whether it's around town or just in the Sandlot, they surround us and start taunting us, telling us that we're sissies, "reminding" us of how horrible we are at baseball, and just being all around nasty.
To tell the truth, I think Phillips is just jealous of us. Our friendship, our abilities, and our relaxation time are all luxuries that he can't have. And surprisingly, I feel sorry for him sometimes. I mean, I know that no matter what happens my boys will be there to help and support me, but Phillips doesn't have that kind of security.
The only reason his goons, I mean, baseball team follows him around and takes orders and cues from him is because he has a lot of influence and is powerful considering his dad is the baseball coach. If someone else were to come along who was somehow more powerful than Phillips, he would be forgotten in a second.
And considering his dad was his coach, I would be surprised if he ever had any free time. I bet that his dad has him training non-stop and he never gets to stop until his dad is satisfied. That was another difference between me and him. I play baseball all day pretty much every day, but that was my choice. I can stop whenever I want to get a soda or just talk with my friends. Phillips can't.
I was silently pondering these things and drowning out Smalls' constant chatter as we pretty much jogged down the street. Smalls had really come out of his shell after the whole "pickling the beast" incident. Now he talked about as much as Yeah-Yeah and he was almost as annoying.
We both jumped and Smalls fell silent as we saw a light flick on in a house that was about a block away. The door of the house opened and we saw a kid who was about our age silhouetted in the doorway. Suddenly he was pulled inside by the front of his shirt by a man I assumed was his father. Then the yelling started. Smalls and I could hear it from a block away even after the door was slammed closed. We started running when we reached the house because to tell the truth, the yelling and screaming was really freaking us out.
I assumed that the boy had gotten home late and his father was expressing his worry through screaming and yelling at him. I was just glad that my dad wasn't like that because I got home late often due to losing track of the time while playing.
About 10 minutes and 15 blocks later Smalls and I were almost out of this neighborhood and into our own. Suddenly someone ran into us from behind and knocked us flat on our faces. Then, without stopping, in fact, without even acknowledging that we were there, the kid ran down to the end of the street and darted into and alley.
I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees and looked over at Smalls to make sure he was okay. He looked fine except for a few scratches on his hands and knees which, after examining myself, I found that I had too.
"Well that was rude!" Smalls exclaimed while slowly clambering up off of the ground. "He didn't even apologize!" I agreed with him and then grabbed my bat and the ball that I had dropped when I fell and stood up to continue walking.
I couldn't resist peeking into the alley as we passed it, and what I saw shocked me. The kid who had just shoved past us and knocked us over was huddled in the very back of the alley shrouded in shadows with his face hidden in his knees. From what I could see, he had blonde hair and he was wearing a baseball uniform. His shoulders were shaking slightly, and it was enough to tell that he was crying.
Smalls finally realized that I had stopped and he walked back towards me with a confused look on his face. Silently I raised my arm and pointed at the kid. Smalls' eyes widened and he made to step forward. I stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder, but not before his foot hit an empty beer bottle. The noise it made as it rolled seemed to fill up the alleyway.
I saw the boy stiffen when he heard it, but he didn't take lift his head.
"I'm sorry to bother you, but are you okay?" I asked in a gentle voice. I noticed that the boy let out a squeaking sound when he heard my voice and then he started to shake harder and sob louder than he had before.
"Obviously not." I muttered under my breath. Then I spoke in a louder voice. "Don't worry! We're not here to hurt you. We just want to talk." I soothed. I tentatively took a step closer to him but I quickly took two steps back and raised my hands in surrender when he gasped and started to hyperventilate.
"Kid it's okay! Calm down! You're gonna hurt yourself if you keep breathing like that!" I whisper yelled.
I could tell he really was trying to calm himself down, but it wasn't working and in a couple of frenzied minutes he passed out from lack of air.
I cautiously walked over to him, vaguely aware of Smalls tiptoeing behind me. I kneeled down and gently turned over the boy. I couldn't tell who he was since the shadows were covering his face making it hard to distinguish his features.
Then the moon came out from behind the clouds and the boy's face was lit up. I gasped as I realized that it wasn't the shadows that were making his face so dark. It was dozens of slowly forming bruises. They covered his entire face and his neck. When I looked closer I saw he also had jagged cuts on his arms and legs and his lip was split and bleeding. For a couple of minutes Smalls and I just stared down at him and tried to figure out who it was. Then it hit me. I think Smalls figured it out at the same time I did because he gasped.
The broken, bruised, and beaten boy in front of us was none other than Phillips.
So? What did you think? Was it good? Bad? Sad? Horrific? Be sure to let me know by leaving me a review! Oh and I forgot to say this at the beginning, but flames will be used to make me yummy s'mores! And while I love s'mores, I don't really like flames, so please don't give me any. If you spot any mistakes, be sure to let me know in a nice way and I'll fix them as soon as possible. Also if you want to PM me for whatever reason, please feel free to do so. I recently lost my phone and I can't text my best friend so I am bored. And... I think that's all. But remember:
A happy author writes better and faster, so leave a review and make me happy!